The deities in temples are divine.
They are made of stones fine.
They elucidate a lovely shine.
Deities have sculptural beauty.
The artisans carve it with duty.
Giving them a lofty credibility.
Bringing out a design of chastity.
Deities are now decked with outfits in gold
They make the deities appear bold.
The shine extols the charm people are told.
Gold deduces the divinity to a mere metallic hold.
Silver too competes with the metal yellow.
The mercurial dazzle dims the glow.
Grace is dimmed by the silvery flow.
Money overtakes purity in a slow.
Temples are no longer place of prayer.
They indulge in display of wealthy layer.
We hear no songs sung with fervour.
We listen to talks of self praise all over.
Temples no longer exude warmth.
They detract every one by exposing wealth.
Instigating a feeling of stealth.
Sealing the mind with ill-health.
Meenas Poems 